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A monologue from the play by Don Nigro
BRITTANY (late twenties)
Brittany is a confused and very disturbed young woman who lives in a university town. It’s late at night and Brittany, looking for the Crisis Center,
mistakenly knocks on the door of Ben who is a student writer attending a writer’s workshop at the university.
She is extremely upset about her own life but lately, she has been directing her anger at the writer’s workshop which she thinks is evil.
Here, she starts ranting about the workshop to Ben, unaware that she is probably insulting him with her tirade.
That damned writer’s workshop draws every self-obsessed loser in the universe to this place. You want to talk about people who have an irrational view of their own personal significance?
What a bunch of neurotic gas bags. I used to work in the library, and while I was supposed to be shelving books I was up in the stacks reading these thesis novels from the fiction workshop.
What a bunch of sh*t. They’re all the same. Safe little sensitive precious pieces of minimalist self-referential bullsh*t, with maybe a little wry twist at the end, so subtle it’s hardly even there. God.
Hasn’t anybody got any balls around here? This bland sh*t is supposed to be literature? It’s hardly even writing.
And then you all sit around and congratulate each other while secretly hating each other’s guts and then go out and hire each other to teach the same sort of crap to other mediocre losers like yourself.
It’s like a black hole that swallows up talent and sh*ts mediocrity. God forbid anything here should ever have any f***ing deep personal significance.
God forbid anything could actually mean anything.
Oh, no. Let’s call it apophenia or delusional reference or slap some other damned stupid label on it so we don’t have to think about it anymore.
Because if the universe actually meant anything, it might mean that the f***ing writer’s workshop is just one big giant sh*t factory.
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